


strangers to the dark

by nothanksweregood (foreverkneeld)



Series: straight for your heart (wolfpack au) [5]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-28 03:42:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13895493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foreverkneeld/pseuds/nothanksweregood
Summary: Niall's bad day gets worse, and then it gets better, because he has a Louis.





	strangers to the dark

**Author's Note:**

> warning for description of a panic attack and a flashback to past abuse - nothing too too graphic, but if you need to skip this one please do!

Niall barely makes it through his bedroom door before he’s on the floor, tears stinging hot and blinding. He pulls off his glasses, tossing them far enough away he won’t crush them by accident, and curls up right where he’s fallen, trying hard to stifle his sobs.

He wants - he wants to break something, hear something smash satisfyingly underneath his hands, and he wants to rip and tear and - no, no,  _ no,  _ he doesn’t, he can’t want that, but if he stops wanting that he starts thinking about how of course he wasn’t going to get the job; he should never have even applied, idiot, _ idiot _ , he should  _ know  _ by now never to hope for anything, and the more fool him that he told people that he’d applied and now everyone will know he was too fucking dumb to get it and oh God they really really needed the money and he knows that too what is he supposed to  _ do  _ -

And there’s a knock on the door, because of fucking course there is - he’s in a house of werewolves, did he really think his headlong rush for the privacy of his room was going to go unnoticed? - and now whoever it is will want to know what’s wrong and he’s going to have to explain how dumb he is and they’re going to laugh and he’s going to have to leave or -

“Niall? Niall, it’s Zayn.”

Niall pulls himself together with an effort that takes every bit of energy he has left, feels like, and manages a ‘come in’ in a mostly normal voice.

Zayn opens the door enough that he can see Niall, but doesn’t come in. “I won’t come in if you need some time,” he says, and Niall braces against the pity he’s sure is coming; he can’t make himself look up to see the look in Zayn’s eyes.

“I just wanted to - make sure,” Zayn fumbles a little, more ill at ease than Niall is used to hearing from calm, sure Zayn, “that you weren’t - that you didn’t - I can - get Louis, or Harry, if that’s better?” 

Niall drags himself upright, tucking his hot face into his knees. He knows he’ll have to face up to it eventually, but in the meantime, the thought of Louis’ sturdy comfort is more seductive than the call to destroy, even if Louis is ashamed of him afterwards.

He can feel Zayn hesitate, and then - 

“I’ll fetch Louis.”

Niall feels another coil of shame settle in his gut, knowing Zayn will take this as a rejection of him, but Louis is - he doesn’t have words for what Louis is. Louis was the first person to see Niall with all his piles of broken bits that don’t fit and his broken knees and the way he’ll never be human again and can’t be a wolf like the rest of them and love him on Niall’s own terms and hold Niall close as he tried to figure out how to begin to put his shards back together again. Even if he disappoints Louis he’s - almost sure, in his head if not his heart, that Louis will still love him.

He’s shaking, he realises distantly, but all the blankets are on his bed, and it’s so far away, and he doesn’t have his glasses, and oh, he’s crying again, because of course he is, he’s so  _ weak _ , he’s never going to be a good wolf, and he hears Kevin’s voice in his head, calmly explaining that he needs to learn, and this is for his own good, that he has to learn to master the shift, and the titanium bat in Keegan’s hand smashing into Niall’s knee, and he’s screaming and screaming and - 

There are warm hands on his shins, one sliding up to cup his knee, and a voice gentle in Niall’s ear saying something over and over, and he can’t focus, and everything is so bright, it’s all so bright, and he’s so cold, and his face is wet, why is his face wet? The voice is telling him - the voice is telling him to look down, but he can’t, he can’t, he can’t see the blood and bits of bone and sinew that’s all that remains of his knee, why is the voice -

“Niall, I promise, you’re safe, you’re with me, please, just open your eyes, you’re safe, your knee is healed, you’re safe, you’re  _ safe _ .”

The smooth voices lie, they say things like this, sometimes, but then there’s always more pain. But there’s something different about this voice, it sounds almost - like the owner is crying, too, and maybe Kevin did something to them, too? Niall should - he should see if he can help, he should - 

He drags his eyes open, meeting a pair of blue ones that are indeed filled with tears, and Niall clumsily reaches out to try to pat the other boy’s cheek. “I’m sorry,” he manages around a mouthful of what is probably blood mixed with snot, “I’m sorry, I’ll - do better next time, I promise.”

“Niall,” the boy’s voice breaks, and Niall shrinks a little, because he hadn’t told anyone his name, he didn’t think? Not after the first pack said they would tell his dad his baby boy was a monster who’d rip out his own family’s throat as soon as look at him.

“Niall, can you - can you tell me what you’re sitting on?”

Stupid question, Niall thinks, and flinches back automatically from the expected blow before he realises, relieved, he’d had the sense not to say it out loud. He’s on the filthy carpet on the bottom floor of the flatshare Kevin’s pack lives in. He can feel the grime beneath his fingertips; the remnants of cigarette butts and discarded - 

He stops. There is carpet beneath him, yes, but it’s soft, and risking a glance downwards, he sees it’s white, not the awful red and brown that was meant to hide stains and really just made it look like someone had bled all over a landfill. Fingers trembling in the soft pile, he slowly turns his head to look at his knee. Underneath the boy’s hand, the skin is pale and his legs are as skinny as ever, but there’s only a scar where he remembers damage beyond what a human would ever have been able to heal.

Slowly, he looks up at the boy, who smiles at him, albeit a little shakily. 

“All healed,” he promises quietly, thumb rubbing very gently over that scar. “You’re not with him anymore, I promise. You got out, love.”

Niall’s whole world seems to narrow down to the warmth of that hand on his knee, the boy’s thumb like a hot brand searing into his being and he -

“ _ Louis _ ,” he breathes.

Louis’ breath catches. “Niall, dearheart.”

With a sob, Niall throws himself forward, trusting Louis to catch him, like he always has.

“Easy, easy,” Lous murmurs, curving his body over Niall’s and pressing kisses from a mouth that still trembles a little into his hair and the edges of his face like he can tattoo safety into his bones with them.  “I’ve got you, lad, you’re safe, I promise.”

“Louis,” Niall manages, mouth open against Louis’ neck, and he knows he must be getting all sorts of gross substances all over Louis’ shirt, but Louis just pulls him closer anyway, hands steady on his back and thigh. He lets himself cry until he can’t any more, and then lays dully in Louis’ arms, feeling like an enormous scrubbing brush has just come and scoured all his insides and taken his ability to react with it. 

“Would a nap be a good idea?” Louis asks very gently.

All of Niall’s limbs feel like they’ve got ten kilo lead weights attached to them, but he manages a nod, and Louis doesn’t ask for more, lifting him easily and carrying him out of his room and into his and Zayn’s, laying Niall on the bed before disappearing into the loo for a second.

He comes out with a facecloth and carefully wipes Niall’s face free of all the snot and tears and fetches him a glass of water. “Had I better go?” he asks, turning from chucking the cloth into the sink.

Niall licks his lips, the roughness of his chapped skin somewhat reduced by the remnants of the water on them. “Stay. Please,” and then, “and - can I - maybe - Zayn?”

The strength of Louis’ smiles, he thinks a little distantly, could most likely power an entire solar system.

“I know he’d be glad to. And sometime, when you’re up to it, we can talk about what happened, yeah?”

“After the nap?”

“Yeah, love. After the nap.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to my beautiful b for the beta, as always


End file.
